There is no method to your madness
not for these fractured eyes to see
Your words a broken cry from the abyss
your stark lines devoid of glee
You drew me in, a wingless moth
towards the ghost of a seething flame
Trying to cut myself from the same cloth
but nothing covered my different frame
We found each other in emptiness
the shade of happiness a far cry
Now, transformed, silky feathers a caress
Away from you this crow will fly.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Old Words
PoesíaA collection (and selection) of my old poetry. If you want to read some of my more recent work, check out The Magic Of Poetry, An Abundance Of Haiku or Bright.
